So many folks are having reunions. I think its so awesome and wonderful. More and more adoptees, adoptive parents and natural parents are coming out of the closet. I am the first one jumping for joy when all of these folks finally tell of their reunion.
It is however bittersweet for me. I can honestly say that I don't know if I will ever see my own. Because there is no transparency in adoption and its wonderful confidentiality intermediary system, I still have no idea of my own truth.
I have been lied to enough times by the adoption agency CI that I doubt my own information and even date of birth. Indiana is known for its changing of birth dates and incest. My agency sadly is known for lying and twisting the information that adoptees and mothers receive about each other. Add to this equation, I was told that my mother denied contact.
If I had my OBC, I don't know what I would do with it. Would I reunite? Maybe but it scares the heebie jeebie out of me. Then you add into this the questions. Will she like me? Will she approve of my lifestyle?
When I met my husband, my adoptive mother disapproved of our relationship. A great deal part of it was because we had a rough start. We began living a cowboy lifestyle. Its not an easy one. It is most definitely for the faint of heart. Ranches dry up and you have to move on. The wages are not very much but sometimes the benefits are. Yes its a poor and hard life. This also bothered my adoptive mother.
It took a long time before she accepted that he was the one for me. I wonder what my own natural mother would think. It scares me that she might be disappointed. Could she see what I see in the land, in my husband, in my children, in our animals and lifestock? What would I show her if I could?
I would show what it is like when it rains on our little hill. Our horses love the rain and a good thunderstorm. I would have her watch the horses come galluping up the driveway around the house and back down the road. I would let her watch them play with each other. I would show her Shorty biting on Togo or Junebug. They usually end up chasing each other around our house. We love it so much that the television, radio, phones, and computers get ignored for the time.
I would let her listen to the quiet and peace of our hill. It sooths my wounded soul. I would let her watch the horses walking around grazing. I would let her watch my husband and granddaughter prowling a pasture. She inherited her daddy's horsemanship. She would see how Togo watches over and protects our daughter. I would show her how the girls can wonder around the horses without fear because they love those girls as I do and she would.
I would let her touch and caress the horses. I would show how to hug a horse. I would tell her that it is okay to cry on their necks. They have let me do it for years now. I would tell her that they are good at mending hearts. If you are really accepting and patient, they will hug you back.
I would let her feel the love of the dogs and cats. I would show her the deer standing quietly grazing. I would show her the coyote sitting on the hill yipping away. I would show her the mother badger and her babes. I would show her how she teaches them the badger way.
I would take her fishing out on the tanks. I would let her watch her granddaughters throw a casting line out into the tank. I would let her giggle with joy as my daughters reel in their catfish or bass.
Then I would sit us both on the back of my husband's work truck. I would look at her face. I would memorize all the lines. I would listen to her voice telling me her story. Letting her voice roll through my soul. Letting it remember her.
I would hold her and promise that this won't happen again to her daughter nor her granddaughters. I would tell her that the buck stopped with me.
Would it matter to her? I can imagine the most perfect idyllic situation. Would it make difference to her? I would like to think it would but real life is different and more harsh.
So if you are out there reading, Happy fourth of July. Its Independence Day. Time to free yourself.
2 comments:
(((Amy)))
Love,
S
Before reunion with my daughter I had stopped shedding tears over the situatiion. I always felt we would meet again but the tearful part of me had dried up.
Since reunion I cry more now than I have in the whole of my life thus far. Most of my tears are for those who are not in reunion and those who never will be.
I know what you and your first parents are missing and it sometimes makes me feel guilty that I have been blessed with so much.
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